Speak of the Devil
by Thorkone
Summary: Never kiss and tell. The guy always finds out, even when he's long since moved to the West coast office. Two-shot (is that even a thing?), Annie and Phil.
1. Chapter 1

"The new guy in accounting is super hot. Have you taken a good look at his ass?" Erin waggled her eyebrows over the top of her computer monitor at me. I rolled my eyes.

"He's a jerk, Erin. I spent all of thirty seconds trying to hand him the orientation manual and he did nothing but stare at my boobs the whole time," I complained. It had been exceptionally off-putting. He hadn't even tried to make eye contact.

"Honey, I spend half my day looking at your boobs," she laughed. "There is nothing understated about your rack. It's hard to miss."

"Yes, I get it, they're big. But they aren't so big that common courtesy needs to fly out the window. First impressions are important, Erin. I don't care how nice his ass is, if he's spending all his time staring at my boobs, I'm not interested," I explained. "Plus, I can't see if the ass in question is nice when the guy is so mesmerized by my magic boobs that I can't get behind him to suss out the goods."

"Sneak into accounting through the back stairwell. Then you can take him unaware." Her response was so matter-of-fact that I couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm not really looking, Erin. I'm not even into window-shopping right now. So I don't see the point." I shut her down and went back to the expense report I was working on. I don't know what Romanoff and Barton had got up to in Budapest, but it was spendy. And Fury had approved every last dime that was claimed, including a dubious charge for what appeared to be a rockin' pair of shoes. It was moments like these that I wondered if the perks of being a field agent were worth the constant risks.

"This isn't still about –"

"Jack and I were together for –"

"Oh, no! You do not, two years later, get to blame your reticence on Jack Jackson! This is about Agent Tonsil Hockey, and you know it!" She interrupted. She'd come up with the unflattering nickname for Agent Coulson after I told her about him saving me from spinsterhood at my cousin's wedding. She'd been using it for the better part of two years, and it wasn't any easier to take now than it had been in the first weeks after the wedding.

"Ugh. You know I hate it when you use that name for him." My complaint fell on deaf ears as usual.

"Agent Dreamboat? Agent Smoochins? Agent you-would-happily-do-things-to-him-that-would-require-you-to-spend-the-rest-of-your-career-in-a-sexual-harrassment-seminar? That last one might be too wordy." She typed as she spoke. It was a talent I lacked, and it was never more irritating than when she was teasing me about something. I had to focus on my tasks or what was being said wound up in briefings. After being called into Fury's office to explain the sidebar detailing how hot Erin thought Agent Barton was, I never mixed work and gossip anymore.

The old saying was 'speak of the devil and he will appear'. It was exceptionally true for SHIELD agents. As though summoned by her stream of consciousness rambling, Coulson appeared at the door of our shared office. The appearance was made all the more shocking because he was working out of the West Coast office, and had been for at least a year. I'd only spoken to him a couple of times since his transfer, and only seen him once. Not that I'd been keeping count.

"Ms. Ellis, I have some A2-336Es for you to process," he held some paper out to me. Sexual harassment forms. I gave him a puzzled look and took the small pile. I flipped through the forms and was surprized to see one with his name on it at the bottom.

"Agent Coulson?" I left the question unspoken. There was no way in the world someone would ever think anything he did was inappropriate.

"I'm volunteering to take the seminar. Some of the team I'm working with would benefit from having an education day, but I'd like to have an excuse to supervise. Rather than just outright announce I was coming to make sure they didn't put Ms. Jenkins into early retirement, I thought I would file on myself," he explained. I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding, and had to admit that Erin might be right about me because all I could think about when I saw his name on the top of that form was that I was pissed he hadn't been sexually harassing me.

"This is highly abnormal, Agent Coulson. A Stark goes on your permanent personnel record, regardless of whether or not you've faked it," I offered.

"A Stark?" Coulson raised an eyebrow.

"On his first day in the building, he slapped Jenkins' ass, kissed Annie on the cheek and told me I needed a boob job. After comparing mine with Annie's. Jenkins' wrote up eight different A2-336Es on him in the first twenty minutes he was on-site," Erin explained. I saw Coulson's gaze flicked between Erin and me and wondered if he was comparing them too. But it was Coulson, who was the epitome of appropriate. He was probably just acknowledging Erin's comment.

"Regardless, I need to be in that seminar, and it needs to be recorded as being for a sexual harassment infraction," Coulson shrugged.

"Why don't you just take Annie to the copy room and kiss her again then?" Erin suggested. I felt myself blanch, and then could feel the colour rush into my face just as quickly. I shot her a look that I really hoped conveyed how dead she was going to be when I was finished murdering her. Coulson had a faint pink tinge creeping up his neck. His gaze met mine and I looked back, determined not to blink first. The truth was, he _had_ kissed me. And Erin was my office-mate and my best friend, so of course I would have told her. He should be thanking me for telling her he was the knight in shining armour who saved me from myself. He finally looked away, the muscle in his jaw tense.

"Just book me into the seminar, please." He turned on his heel and headed out of the office, and I couldn't let him leave angry with me. I shot Erin a filthy look and ran out to the elevator and stepped on just as the doors were sliding shut.

"You're angry," I thought pointing out the obvious would be the best place to start.

"Not at you, Ms. Ellis." His tone was curt and he refused to look at me, opting instead to look out across the river. I felt a hot flare of anger lick up my spine and I smacked the emergency stop button on the elevator door. The alarm buzzed and then silenced.

"According to the emergency protocol for this elevator, you have approximately two minutes to explain before we are going to be summarily rescued and interrogated about why the alarm was pulled. I hope you can speak quickly, Agent Coulson," I snapped. He spun around and glared at me.

"What am I supposed to say? Ms. Ellis, I was out of line at your cousin's wedding, and I've regretted my behaviour ever since. I wish I could turn back time and make it go away, but I can't. I'm sorry. I took advantage of you. Maybe I need that seminar more than I realize." He was angry at himself. Not at me. I could see my reflection on the glass behind him and the look of pure confusion on my face must have been deeply confusing to him.

"Why are you apologizing? Coulson, I'm competent to defend myself. If you'd crossed any line, I could have ensured you sang falsetto for the rest of your natural life. You have nothing to be sorry for." I glanced at my watch. Thirty seconds to go. It was his turn to look confused.

"You aren't angry with me?"

"Is this why you've been weird with me? For the last two years?" I was stunned.

"I moved to the West Coast office," he blurted.

"Yes, I know, I processed your expense account. I meant weird the few times we've had to interact since your transfer. This might not be the right time to mention it, but I've missed you. You're the only agent that speaks to any of us like we're human." I quickly clarified.

"I moved to the West Coast office because I felt that my behaviour had been so grossly –"

"Elevator status report. Two occupants, both alert with no visible signs of distress." The security guard who'd opened the elevator doors above us looked down into the elevator car and spoke into the radio on his shoulder. The radio crackled in response. Before Coulson could finish his thought, we were being hoisted out of the car to the floor above us and escorted to security holding for interrogation.


	2. Chapter 2

"Ms. Ellis, Director Fury has requested a recruitment seminar in the Vancouver office," Jenkins' began. I immediately gave her my undivided attention. A free trip home would be awesome.

"I would be happy to put together a cohesive seminar targeted toward the lower mainland universities," I offered. Jenkins' nodded and narrowed her eyes in thought.

"How soon can you have it ready?" She asked.

"If I pull from the existing resources, it shouldn't take more than a day to get coordinated. Depends on the backlog at the printshop." Posters and handouts would need to be targeted to the specific schools, but SHIELD had swag at the ready. For a super-secret extra-governmental organization, there was a lot of shit with the eagle on it floating around. Pens, water bottles, post-its. It was a matter of filling a box.

"Excellent. Have it on my desk tomorrow for approval," Jenkins' breezed out of my office and shut her own office door behind her. Erin and I weren't even allowed to have a door on our shared office.

I pushed through the last of Coulson's A2-336Es quickly and scheduled his team for the next seminar, but I deliberately left the form he filled out for himself incomplete. Instead I just scheduled him to attend on a provisional clause for extended education. If he ever asked, I planned on telling him I'd completed the form as he'd requested, but I was not going to be the person responsible for marring his otherwise spotless personnel record.

The seminar came together as quickly as I'd expected, and when I called down to the printshop to leave a voice message about the job I'd shipped, I caught one of the staff working late. It was advantageous for me because it let me ensure a firm completion date for the media files, and I was able to schedule the dates of the trip for the following week before I went home for the night. I sent a quick email to Jenkins before I went home.

I filled the bathtub with bubbles and poured myself a glass of scotch on ice as a reward for my hard work. As I sunk into the bubbles, I started mentally packing. It was early fall, so I would need my raincoat, and at least one sweater, but I was also going to need to pack for the potential of lingering summer warmth. I was so excited that a shiver ran across my shoulders.

XXX

"This looks excellent, Ms. Ellis. Can you schedule the travel as well?" Jenkins asked after she looked over the seminar.

"I've got a hold on tickets for Monday. I just need to call and confirm the details," I agreed.

"Oh, that sexual harassment seminar is on Monday afternoon," she sighed. "You'll have to run it for me. Here's everything you need to finish booking me through to Vancouver. Can you ensure I'm at a nice hotel? And if you could forward me a recommended packing list, I would appreciate it."

My blood ran cold. I wasn't the one doing the recruitment seminar. Jenkins had completely led me to believe I was, but had been planning on taking the trip herself the whole time. The bitch.

"Well, it's autumn in Canada. Pack warm," I recommended, not the least bit repentant in my misinformation. I hoped she got off the plane to a heatwave wearing a parka. I briefly contemplated giving her other bad advice, but bit my tongue. I didn't want anything that could come back and haunt me.

XXX

"Good morning. My name is Anna Ellis, and I am a Human Resources specialist here at SHIELD. The reason we're all gathered here today is to discuss sexual harassment in the workplace," I breezed into the classroom carrying my coffee. I'd led the seminar once before and it was outdated and desperately in need of an overhaul. I'd spent most of my weekend updating the discussions and information so I wouldn't feel like an idiot. Needless to say, I was tired and resentful.

"If any of you have had the dubious honour of attending this seminar before, you will note that today's session will be significantly different than the last time you were here," I continued.

"You're not kidding. You're way hotter than the last HR chick." A young guy in a golf shirt that denoted he belonged in R&D smirked at me. I scanned the list of names scheduled to attend until I found someone from research's name.

"Aaron Tyson?" I asked. He nodded. "If I hear another word from you, I'll write you up a second time. SHIELD follows a three-strikes you're out policy. And since this is your second time attending, I would strongly recommend you don't push me."

"But," he protested. "Look how you're dressed!"

I looked down at myself. I was wearing a pencil skirt that hit my knees and a fitted blouse. Which I'd actually had to have tailored so it would be fitted. Typical office attire. I raised an eyebrow and opened my mouth, but a voice piped up from the back.

"She could be naked, that doesn't imply consent, and it doesn't mean she's asking for you to comment."

I looked up and made eye contact with Agent Coulson. Inside, I was cringing. In my anger about getting sharked out of the Vancouver trip, I completely forgot that he was attending the seminar.

"And whether I am more or less attractive than the last person you took the session from has no bearing on my competence," I added. "So we know Mr. Tyson is here, and I see Agent Coulson in the back. Let's run through some introductions quickly so I can ensure you get paid and credited for attending."

There were two women in the class. One of them was on Coulson's team, and I assumed was in the session for the same reason as he was – team solidarity. The other one was clearly unhappy to be in attendance, refused to make eye contact and spent most of the introductions doodling in a notebook. Looks could be deceiving, but she was like a mouse, all drab colour and trying to be as small as possible. I made a note to talk to her at coffee break.

"Harassment, at its most base level, is about consent. Do you have consent do behave the way you are behaving? In a professional environment, it is easier to just assume you do not have consent than try to negotiate the delicate dance that innocent flirtation requires. Does that mean that inter-agency relationships are frowned upon? SHIELD is not so naïve as to assume that we are capable of keeping romances out of the workplace. But you need to be able to discern what is interest and what is professional courtesy. Chances are, the reason you are here is because you lack the ability to do so. So my advice is to stop trying to find romance at the office before it costs you your career."

"But what if you know the person is interested in return?" Tyson asked.

"Clearly the one you were flirting with wasn't, or you wouldn't be here, Mr. Tyson." It was tart, but I hated running this seminar. As a general rule it was filled with socially inappropriate losers that didn't really deserve to keep their jobs.

"So how do I learn to tell the difference?" He asked.

"Social cues for interest are a learned behaviour. I can't really teach you that in a one-day seminar. There's a lot to be said for body language, but in the end, it's about verbalized consent. Let me be clear, harassment means different things to different people," I explained. "Some people are completely okay with casual touch during conversation, and others will find that crossing a line. In other situations, some people are so mired down in their understanding of what professionalism is that even when both parties are consenting, they feel it is harassment." I leveled a look at Coulson and was pleased to see him glance away, obviously uncomfortable.

"Because of the nature of individuals, and individual preference and comfort, SHIELD has developed a responsive sexual harassment policy that is very clear in its interpretation. If it makes the recipient of the attention uncomfortable in any way, it is in violation of the policy. And just so we are clear, inappropriate touching is grounds for termination after the investigation of the A2-336E. And to be ensure that I've said it at least three times, any attention that makes a person uncomfortable is considered harassment." I really hated this seminar. "I'm going to hand out workbooks. They are filled with case studies. We have some films to watch that go along with the case studies, and then we will work through the first case together. After that, we're going to break for coffee. After coffee, I will assign you into pairs and you can complete the remaining cases before lunch."

I handed out the workbooks and clicked the remote to start the case videos. They were so old and outdated it wasn't funny. The fashion was horrifying. There was one scene where a man kept telling a woman that she was a sexy little piece of ass, and her shoulder pads were so huge that her shoulders were broader than his. Her suit was so loose it was a miracle he could see if she had a sexy ass at all. I was going to have to request updated films. I filled my coffee cup and took a seat at the back of the class, at the end of the table where Coulson was seated. When the film ended, I used the remote to turn the lights back on and returned to the front of the room.

"Any questions?"

"I think that film might have been made when I was still a baby," the mousy girl commented. I smiled and nodded.

"They are quite outdated, but they get the job done. SHIELD has been an equal opportunity employer since it was founded, so it's always been ahead of the game with regards to harassment in the workplace." I led the group through the first case and gauged the group quickly. The agents that were part of Coulson's team all seemed more filled with youthful exuberance than actual offenders to the policy, but I could understand why Coulson would want them to have the education. Knowledge of boundaries was a key indicator of whether a field agent was going to be successful. The rest of the group was really a mixed bag. I pulled up the mousy girl's file while we worked through the case and took a quick look, and was again puzzled as to why she was in the seminar. I approached her when we broke for coffee.

"Ms. Thomas, you work in IT, right?" I asked. She nodded and filled her coffee cup with an obscene amount of sugar before pouring coffee in.

"I suppose you're wondering why I'm here?" She asked.

"If I'm completely honest, yes. You don't strike me as the type to run around getting into trouble. Your personnel record is immaculate," I admitted.

"I may have grabbed my ex by the balls and twisted when he fed me some bullshit line about not wanting to date me anymore." The look on her face told me she felt attending the seminar was a fair trade. I bit my lip to prevent myself from smiling.

"Intra-agency dating gone bad? I think most of us have been there, Ms. Thomas." And to be honest, I wish I'd thought to do that to Jack when he'd dumped me. But I couldn't say that out loud.

"I didn't fit with his new James Bond lifestyle after he got promoted out of security to field operative and he just couldn't wait until after work to dump my sorry ass," she shrugged. I cringed, completely understanding. I refilled my coffee and reconvened the class. I paired off people easily. Initially I wasn't going to put Ms. Thomas with Tyson, but after speaking with her, I figured she could take care of herself. Which left Coulson without a partner. I pulled up a chair beside him.

"It would appear you need a partner, Coulson. Try to restrain your excitement." He looked nervous. It made me feel powerful.

"I wasn't expecting you today," he began.

"I was expecting to be in Vancouver leading a recruitment drive. You're not alone," I laughed. "Look, we both know you don't need this class. You don't have to do the case studies. And I don't think you need to worry about your team. This will be good to help them figure out where the line is, but I don't think you have anyone to worry over there."

"I tend to agree. About my team. I appreciate that you recommend against intra-agency relationships. In my experience that leads to nothing but trouble and is not worth the pain and drama." His jaw was tense again and I felt a twinge of hurt. Like he was putting me, and our shared experience, aside. As something he regretted.

"Some people are worth the trouble, Coulson."

"Very few." It felt like a slap across the face.

"That's really cold." I could feel the pinch in my forehead that I always got when I started to get angry. "If you'll excuse me. I suddenly need some fresh air."

I walked out into the hallway and noticed my hands were shaking. Stupid fucking field agents. I felt like an idiot for carrying a torch for someone who was so clearly indifferent to me. For two fucking years. I walked to the end of the hall and looked out the window. An entire city full of politicians and military. It was no wonder I was so unsuccessful at dating. It was no wonder a straight-shoot like Coulson looked good in comparison to the professional dishonesty of the political flunkies I was surrounded by, despite his honesty being painful. I rested my head against the window and sighed.

"I didn't mean you." Coulson had followed me into the hallway. "I didn't mean you weren't worth it."

I turned to face him. "You could have fooled me."

"Anna," he started. I raised an eyebrow at the familiarity. "Ms. Ellis. You are young. And beautiful. And intelligent. Why do you care what an old man like me has to say?"

"You are a good man, Coulson."

"I'm not good at entanglements." He stepped closer to me. I took a step back and found myself against the window. "Ms. Ellis, why me?"

"You're my friend. You're kind. I've been here four years and there's never been a time you haven't flirted with me. Why not you?" I reached out and pulled a tiny piece of lint off his suit. He stepped closer.

"I made a promise to myself a long time ago that I wouldn't date within the ranks again." His hand came to rest on my cheek. My breathing sped up.

"Some of the best promises are broken ones." I slid my hands under his lapels and pulled him close. I kissed him, tentatively. His other hand came up to my face and he pulled me against him, pushing me against the window at the same time. It was demanding, and hot, and breathtaking. And just as quickly as it started, it was over. Coulson stepped away and looked at his feet.

"I'm sor –"

"Don't you dare apologize to me, Phil Coulson." I pulled him back to me and kissed him again. My arms snaked around his shoulders, and his hands slid down to my waist. His hip ground into mine and I pushed him away. "I kissed you, Coulson. And I'm not apologizing."

"I can't," he started, "I can't do this, Anna."

"Why not? You have consent," I exclaimed. Phil turned and locked gazes with me. His intensity was both frightening and a huge turn-on.

"I work a dangerous job. I made a choice when I took it. I chose the lonely road. A woman like you, Anna," he trailed off.

"A woman like me, what?" I demanded.

"A woman like you makes a man like me question that decision. I can't do this. I can't do it to you. And I can't do it to me," he explained. He turned away and sighed. "You're right, Ms. Ellis. I don't need to be in this seminar. I'll excuse myself."

I was stunned. And angry. But mostly stunned. I wanted to scream at him, and call him a coward. But I knew it would accomplish nothing other than destroying the rather tenuous string holding our friendship together.

"I hope we can stay friends, Coulson," I offered as he started down the hall.

"That's why I'm leaving, Ms. Ellis," he nodded. "I value you too much to stay."


End file.
